Something Wicked This Way Comes (She's a Witch)
by WeLonelyOldSouls
Summary: HIATUS The shipwreck is found within days of it crashing, and the dead bodies not long after. The Rangers are called in to investigate, but the search grows far more serious when they start to find these mysterious foreigners dead- not from disease like the rest, but cut down. Something foul is afoot, and the people of Araluen are caught in the middle of it.


"You three are the worst bandits I have ever met." The ranger says dryly, pacing in front of them. "You are never going to be out robbing travelers again." As he paces, he thinks about the camp he found them in. They are idiots, for targeting whoever this camp belonged to. Because the camp definitely did not belong to them.

One, the camp? Way too well put together. It's organized. Well off the trail, but not hidden. It has a fire going, with meat cooking. Meat. The smell alone is a dead giveaway. Who cooks during the heat of the day in summer? Not taking into account, how would one get fresh meat out here?

By hunting it. Meaning they were going to try and rob a trapper or hunter. Both tend to have at least a passing competency with a weapon. Weapon means dangerous means fight rather than them handing over their coin.

Two, those weapons? That crossbow is too big for anything smaller than a deer or bear. _Or a knight in armor._ He realizes.

His thoughts turn to the trussed-up men when one of them whimpers. _Why would they try and rob people? The fief has a labor shortage! People are literally asking for workers._

"But with how you came at me, why would I expect anything less? You split up, good. But, 'Carrow', your big thing is attacking from above. You fell out of the tree. C'mon.

'Magpie'? You tripped. What's all the muscle and size if you can't stay up? Then I took you down with a single shove. Yeah, 'Bash you good!' how'd that work out for you?

And you- I don't even know your name, and I don't want to. You couldn't even get past the tarp. Pathetic." The ranger stops pacing and turns. "So now you come clean. Whose site is this? Whose weapons are these?"

"They're not yours?" Magpie asks.

"No, they're not."

When the silence stays, he growls, "You mean you don't know?"

"Thought it was yours." Carrow grumbles.

"Great. Just great." He says, pinching off his headache.

When a slight snap comes form the woods, the ranger whirls around, knife in hand.

"Who's there? Kings Ranger, show yourself!" When no one appears or calls out, he scrambles for his horse and the bow draped on the saddle. A few steps away from the horse, something shoots down and embeds itself in the dirt in front of him, narrowly missing his boots.

"You missed with your-" He looks down, "What even is this?"

"What does it look like?" A voice calls out from his 5 o'clock.

"An axe, but not."

"The boy can see! Praise the gods." The voice snarks from his 9 o'clock.

"I'm warning you, my name is Aaron, and I'm a Kings Ranger. Are you the thief I was sent here to find?"

"Would anyone answer that question with a yes?" The voice asks exasperatedly.

"I would." The ranger challenges.

"Me too." The bandits chime in.

"You all are so stupid." The ranger sighs.

"And you! You're calling me a thief while holding up my things? Really?" the voice accuses.

"I'm arresting you on suspicion of being a thief. Come quietly and I won't hurt you." He announces, pulling out his knife. He fishes for the other one, but the scabbard is empty.

"Careful, Ranger, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself." The missing knife thunks into the tree by the bandits. "There's no one out here to help you."

"Why you!" Aaron reaches for his strikers when he feels the wire on his neck. Immediately, he shoves a hand under it and tries to keep his breathing open. He slips both hands under it and is preparing to yank and push when there is a hook and a tug and suddenly, he is flying arse over teakettle.

He regains focus when he gets the familiar feeling of something razor sharp under your chin. When the wind makes the trees sway, the sun falls directly into his eyes and he blinks back tears until the shadow falls back on him. His assailant is close enough to stab, but too far away to easily flip and pin.

Desperate not to lose, Aaron grabs the boy's arm and tugs it in, trusting that the boy won't actually kill him. While he doesn't get stabbed, as the boy drops the knife, he does get rolled and pounced on, his head slamming into a stone.

* * *

"Well boys, welcome sleeping beauty back to the land of the living."

A chorus of "Afternoon" greet Aaron as he regains consciousness.

"Now, seeing as how I don't like you; we have two options. Which would you like first?"

"Option 1?"

"Option! I leave you trussed up tighter than a tax collector's sphincter and disappear. You might be found, might not. If not, you die in a week or so, maybe sooner if the wildlife doesn't like you either."

"And option 2?" Aaron asks.

"Option 2, you tell me how to get your pony over there moving, and I drag the four of you to town and turn you in."

"I'm not a criminal!" Aaron protests.

"Sure, that's why you were holding stolen goods and consorting with three well known bandits. Pretty sure thievery is a crime in Arulen. Doesn't matter who you are, the law is the law."

"But I didn't steal anything!" He protests.

"Sure. You were in my camp, holding my arms, taking my prisoners." He thinks for a moment. "Actually, going by the local laws, thievery of the bandits I caught is more poaching than theft. I don't know if that's any improvement." His assailant eyes the ranger.

"I won't tell you."

"Your loss." The boy grabs the bandits leads, having roped them together, and ties them to his own horse. They set off slowly back toward the path,

"Wait! I give! I'll tell you!" Aaron shouts after a few minutes alone in the woods, unable to move.

"Spill." The bounty hunter asks, reappearing in an instant.

"You can't force him to move, just move and he will follow."

"Good boy." Aaron is clapped on the cheek and tied to the horse. His ankle bonds are slashed, and they start toward the nearest town.

It takes Aaron a moment to realize what he should have noticed when he was wrestling, "Wait! You're a girl!"

"Any other truly scintillating observations?" She deadpans.

* * *

The town of Gwyneth is small and quiet, with not a lot happening on any given day. So, when a line of prisoners lead by a woman with two horses walks down the center of town, it attracts quite a scene.

Aaron can feel his cheeks heat up and the rumors and comments start to reach him. They recognized the ranger cloak. Word would quickly spread. Not even a month into his assignment, and this happens. He is so dead.

They stop at the town jail, where the bounty hunter hands off the prisoners.

"The three bandits on the bounty and one unknown. I don't like the look of the unknown, better contact the baron." She says. The guard is still staring at Aaron.

"What are you waiting for?" She asks again, stepping between the guard and the ranger. He stammers and jumps into action, leading the bandits into their cells.

"I never should have left home." She moans quietly.

* * *

Aaron has to groan as he is lead to his cell. Its not bad, as far as cells go. It's got a cot and a pot which is nicer than most. No fire, but its summer anyways. He sits on the cot and wonders how he got into this mess.

* * *

She walks away from the jail frustrated, throwing her hands up. Aaron would swear he heard her mutter "men." as she climbed back on her horse.

For a small town, the guards were abysmal at giving directions. One inn, three streets, and they got her lost twice. She gets the horses settled in the stable in the back, leaving a gold piece as payment for the space, walking back to the jail to get her bounty.

The inside is small, but that hardly matters.

"I'm here for the bounty." She says, spreading out the poster on the counter of the desk.

"I'm afraid if your husband wants to claim the bounty, he has to come hims-" the guard starts.

"I'm tired of your idiotic sexist society. Make a goddamn exception, for once. I'm not married, I caught them on my own. I even caught the one over there with the fancy cloak when he tried to steal my things. I earned that bounty." She interrupts.

Meekly, he hands over the gold.

"Glad to be of service." She says, stalking back out of the jail.

* * *

Another ranger rides into town, nice and slow. He isn't hurried as he makes his way to the jail, calmly stopping his horse by the entryway and dismounting.

Aaron shoots to his feet as the Ranger walks in. "Gilan! Are you here to get me out?"

"You're lucky I was nearby. Not quite. I cleared most of it up, but you stole some weapons from a girl in the woods?"

"I was tracking the bandits. I came across the camp and the weapons. She attacked me!"

"Yes, I heard. I checked it out myself. Did you know that she trapped those bandits?" Gilan asks.

"I caught them!"

"yes, when one tripped on flat land, one fell out of a tree, and one fell into a tarp."

"How did you know?"

"I found the wire trap on the ground, the sawed branch in the tree and the holes from the stakes of the tarp. From her point of view, you tried to poach her captures." Gilan answers amusedly.

"I'll see if I can find her and clear this up. Still, this is going to be a great story for the gathering."

* * *

Gilan walks out of the jail and to Blaze.

"Now, where would I go if I were-" Blaze butts her head pushing him toward the inn.

"Right. You always have been smarter than me." He says fondly, rubbing her head. "Let's go meet a huntress."

He spots Aaron's horse in the stable, next to an unfamiliar mare. Not the most well taken care of, but someone made an effort to try. Gilan quietly finishes the job, getting all three settled before making his way inside.

Inside, there is only one girl who matches the description he got from his old apprentice.

* * *

"Hello there, mind if I join you?" A young man, wearing the same cloak as the one who stole her things stands asking, smiling. She palms the knife and gives him a look.

"I'm not for sale."

"I'd rather not sit next to the crowd." He says. The other tables are full of lumbermen, who are decently into their cups.

"Fine." She says, pulling her cup closer.

"So, I'm Gilan." He waits for a reaction, and when one doesn't come, he pulls his oakleaf up. "I think you have one of these that doesn't belong to you." Gilan's is worn and dented, scuffed a little. Not like the one around her neck, all shiny and new. Her hands twitches toward it, giving up that she has it.

"Put it on the table." He instructs. She tugs it out and slides it to him. "Your apprentice doesn't deserve it, from what I hear."

"Oh?" Gilan says.

"He's arrogant. Prideful. Hides behind his reputation. Overconfident."

"And you're not?"

"I've sailed from far away, survived pirates and a hurricane, survived the foul diseases your country has, watched all of my crewmates die, and managed so far. I can back up my claims."

"But, if I believe you, you are far away from home, in a land not your own, picking fights with-"

"Secret police are not so uncommon." She cuts in.

"With someone who has friends nearby. Are you sure you aren't overconfident? Not even a little?"

"This is over." She hisses, making to leave. Gilan wraps a hand around her arm. "I scream and everyone looks. They already have one ranger in jail, what is one more?" she says quietly. "Let go."

Gilan does. _She doesn't know who I am. It's obvious now, but she really doesn't know._ "Tell me your name, and you can go."

"Belaina." She vanishes up stairs. No doubt by sunrise, she will be gone.

"So much for a quiet night." He says, paying for his meal and leaving.

 _Cassandra and Will have to know about this immediately._

He catches her as she tries to sneak out that night, wrapped in his cloak between the inn and the stables. He's careful not to move as she passes by, and he can see her grow unsettled, sensing something is off, but not able to pick him out. It takes her two trips to load up her horse, and he waits patiently for her to be completely packed. If she does it, he doesn't have to have Aaron do it later. As he hears her return for the final time, Gilan draws his strikers and waits. As she steps through the doorway, her strange axes tucked in her belt, he strikes. One clean hit to the side of her head and she folds. Gilan, his courtly upbringing not quite broken out of him by Halt, catches her falling body and carries her to her horse. He drapes her over the saddle and divests her of her weapons. Before tying her hands to the pommel. Blaze saddles up quickly, and he only has to stop by the headman's home for a moment to secure Aaron's release the next morning. The fresh ranger may be arrogant, but he is still a ranger. A night in a cell won't kill him, but he does have an assignment to complete.

They make a curious procession to Castle Arulen, the esteemed ranger and his captive girl. They draw few stares, but that is far more due to the nature of it being early morning than anything else. Gilan draws to a stop outside of the stables and knocks on the wall to summon the stable boy.

"Sir?" The boy asks.

"If you could do me a favor and see to the horse the young lady is on, and have the saddlebags sent to the briefing room, it would make things easier for me. I have to escort her to a cell, and then I'll be back to see to my own horse. The boy, knowing the ranger's reputation for caring for their horses themselves nods and starts to work at the straps. Gilan unwinds the rawhide ties and lifts the girl over his shoulder.

He enters the castle, drawing a few looks from the guards, but they know how rangers are more now, with them becoming more public figures, and so they don't make a fuss. AS he's walking toward the cells an unexpected visitor steps out of a doorway.

"Lady Alyss!" Gilan says cheerfully.

"Gilan! What's all this?" She asks.

"I think I found someone who survived that shipwreck down by the hawkhead narrows." He explains.

"Oh wow. What happened to her?" the courier asks.

"She didn't want to come and meet with us, so measures had to be taken. Tell me, do we still have that room from when Lady Pibarin was here?" he asks, shifting the girl to his other shoulder.

"We do. Let me lead you there, she's can't be comfortable to have hoisted up like that." Alyss says, leading Gilan. The room in question was reconfigured for the Lady in question, who had a nasty habit of sleepwalking. She had adopted to a single-story dwelling for most of her life, but whenever she had to visit somewhere, she always requested her door to eb locked from the outside, lest she fall down a staircase or have some other tragic accident. As flipping a door's hinges was preferable to harming either her physical person or pride and reputation, it was normally accommodated.

Alyss opened the door and Gilan laid the girl on the bed, standing and popping his back.

"Why don't you go see if the cook has any coffee brewing, and I'll make sure she's secure." Alyss offers.

"Lady Alyss, you are a godsend, as always." Gilan praises, glad to take her up on the offer.

He stops by the kitchens to find a sleep weary apprentice stirring a pot, having been awoken by someone and told to jump to work.

"The coffee won't be ready for a while longer, sir." The boy offers.

"When it is finished, would you mind having some sent to the briefing room?" Gilan asks. "I expect that we will need it."

"It will be done." The boy says, suppressing a yawn and giving him an embarrassed smile.

"After that, I expect you could grab a quick nap before morning preparations." Gilan teases, slipping out of the kitchens.

Gilan returns to the stables and rubs down Blaze. As he's finishing up, he sees the girl's bags sitting across the stable and looks around for the stable boy. _He should still be around._ Gilan thinks.

The ranger, his curiosity piqued, starts poking around. The wait room is empty, the cot still disheveled from where the boy got up. He checks on the girl's horse, but it is rubbed down completely, and he still see's no sign of the boy. Further searching turns up no sign of him, and Gilan ifs forced to write it off as unsolved as the sky starts to lighten.

He returns with the bags to the briefing room, the first one inside. Setting the bags by the table in the center, Gilan takes a moment to rest in a chair, cursing his growing age. He's not cut out for running around all night anymore. Crowley was looking to retire from being commandant soon, and Gilan had a sinking suspicion he was the likely replacement. Mostly because he had been reassigned to Arulen fief, and his load of administrative work had been slowly but steadily increasing for the past two years. His counterpart was also nominally assigned here, but Will was a special case of Ranger.

The group of people in the know was extremely small, consisting of only the royal family, the commandant, Halt, and Gilan himself. Will had secretly been assigned to be the representative of the king outside of Arulen's borders. The king and queen still negotiated and had correspondence but will was a roving ambassador of sorts. He solved problems and sent back information. (and the occasional love note to the lady Gilan had run into earlier, but he wasn't supposed to know that.)

The door behind him slid open, and Gilan leapt to his feet. The serving girl jumped too, not realizing that anyone was in here already.

"Sir! Oh, you gave me such a fright! I'm sorry, sir. Let me just set this down." She stammers.

"I'm sorry to scare you." He says, letting her pass by. As she takes the lid off the pot, he takes a deep breath and smells the rich aroma. "Now that I know you were bringing the coffee, I'm doubly sorry!" He jokes, quickly advancing on the pot.

"It's hot!" she warns, taking the tray and leaving him to his drink. The coffee is hot, far too hot to drink at the moment. (Not that that stops Gilan from trying!) It's to the sight of his eyes' smarting at his scalded tongue that Horace and Cassandra walk in.

"Your majesties." Gilan says awkwardly, fanning his mouth.

"Got a little ahead of yourself there, didn't you?" Horace teases warmly.

"Don't rag him too hard dear, you know if Will were here, he'd be right there with him." Cassandra says, resting a hand on Horace's arm.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." The voice comes unexpectedly from the doorway, ragged from travel, but happy to be home.

"Will!" Cassandra says, rushing to hug the young man. Horace waits for his wife to step away before crushing him in a bear hug.

"Last we heard you were in Tuscani! What brings you back here?" Horace asks.

"I think Gilan can start on this one." Will says, nodding to the older ranger. "A lot of what I've heard should be explained by what he's likely stumbled on."

"Right." Gilan says, accepting the reins. "To start, let us recap. Three weeks ago, the remains of a shipwreck was identified by a pair of boys by hawkhead narrows. Further investigation revealed that the ship matched no known nation's design. We assumed all hands lost, but then the reports came in from the fiefs nearby. Strange people, sick in the woods. Unfamiliar languages and words. Traders who operated without speaking. Then the burial sites were found. Bodies put under rocks, or trees moved above them. The activity seemed to die out, but by tracing the timing of the reports a pattern emerged- one that outpaced the trail of dead. Then, in Hogarth fief, the reports started of a thief and hunter of some skill. We were investigating it, and I believe Aaron, Ranger of Keramon Fief stumbled upon them."

"Ranger Aaron?" Will asked.

"Recently promoted." Gilan explained.

"Right, do continue." Will waves him on.

"well, I spoke with her at an inn. She is…" he leans back to think of the right words. "Guarded. Spoke of secret police but didn't know who we were specifically. She didn't know who I was, even after I introduced myself. She's prideful, but definitely has some ability. The type of person we try and tap for ranger training if they're young enough."

"Are you thinking of conscripting this woman?" Horace asks.

"No. She's too old, and too foreign. Common is not her original tongue. She looks exotic, carries herself as one who stands independent. If her claims are to be believed, she can sail with some degree of skill, but her riding is poor." Gilan adds.

"where would you say she's from?" Will asks.

"I'd guess…" Gilan starts before falling off sharply. "Maybe, no. Perhaps, can't be. Maybe far west? You're the traveled one, Will, you tell us."

"I believe she is from the east." He says.

"Will, that's absurd. There's nothing east of Arulen." Horace says.

"I wouldn't be so certain. In the recent storm, an old wreck washed up near Skandia. They recovered the ship and started pulling it apart. Erak had to dig, but they found the records. It apparently sailed east to scout for lands, as the captain had seen a prophesy from the vallas. Total hogwash we thought, but they recovered some artifacts from it." Will reaches into his cloak and pulls out a short axe like object, the size of a small club. "This was embedded in the planking of the ship. More importantly, the ship wasn't sailed east when it sank. It was headed home."

At that revelation, the door to the room is thrown open, "milords, there's been a murder!"


End file.
